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She shivers. “Mario had the same mad, evil eyes.”
I lower my voice. “Keep watching him and everyone in his organization. He’s up to something, and it concerns Chastity.”
Dom nods. “We won’t let him out of our sight.”
I am so frustrated, but we need to play the waiting game because if I know Carlos, he will be planning a nasty surprise for us and I only hope it doesn’t involve the woman I love. I’m still holding onto the hope that she is here somewhere stalking her prey because if she is in danger because of me, I will never forgive myself.
CHAPTER33
CHASTITY
My heart is banging as I struggle to free my hands from the cuffs. I’m almost positive my wrists will never be the same again as I scrape the skin against the cold steel, desperate to free myself. Luckily, my wrists have always been small, and these cuffs were designed to snare a man and so, after a painful experience, I am soon free of one of them.
I waste no time in reaching for my knife and picking the lock of the other one with the blade. A little trick taught to me by one of my friends on the street who prided himself on his skills. I am so thankful for him now as the lock snaps apart and I take some heavy gasps of relief as I contemplate my next move.
I don’t have long. I already realize that and make my way to the door, groaning with frustration when I note it is locked. Once again, I reach for my knife and work the lock, however this old metal one is a little more reluctant to cooperate.
I note footsteps outside, followed by laughter and freeze as I realize I’m not alone. Of course, he’s left some of his men behind, and I doubt I’d make it far if I made it out of this room.
I gaze around me in the desperate hope the answer is obvious, but all I register are the cold depressing walls of my grave.
It wasn’t meant to end like this. I trained to kill the man responsible for murdering my parents in cold blood and all I’ve done is make it easy for him to finish the job. I hate the emotions tearing through me and try to reorganize my scrambled brain into some kind of order.
If I kill Carlos in this room, it will leave his men to finish the job he started. I am in no doubt about that. Men like him always come with an insurance policy and I wonder why his wife believes I can achieve something many men before me have tried. She must know something I don’t, because why would she help me?
I’ve been to hell and am still clawing my way back and the only thing worth fighting for is currently dealing with potentially losing another member of his family. Will he lose two people close to him in one night because of one man? I’m in no doubt that Carlos was responsible for the disturbance at the charity event. The fact he brought me here told me he orchestrated the distraction. Matteo was always going to pay for killing his son and the event provided the perfect opportunity to get what he wanted.
My mind is racing right now and so I take a few deep breaths to regain calm in a storm because if I have learned anything over these past few years, it’s not to panic.
Poker taught me a lot about this, and the most important thing was to discover your opponent’s weakness and never reveal your fear. I call on that skill now as I plan my revenge, because if Carlos thinks he’s in for a night of pleasure, he’s got another thing coming.
I must sit hunched on the floor; my arms wrapped around my body for another hour. The cold has never bothered me because for a few years I was permanently cold. It became a state of mind and so I sit with a calm acceptance of my situation as I work out my plan. One thing is definite, Carlos intends on killing me and so it may be wiser to fight my way out of here before he arrives.
Occasionally, footsteps hover outside the door before walking away, and I pay attention to the frequency. After a while a pattern emerges and I can tell the soldiers follow a routine when patrolling the area, which tells me there’s probably only two of them, three at the most. If there were more, I would have a permanent guard stationed outside my door and so when the footsteps pass, I count to fifty in my mind until I can’t hear them anymore. I must have at least ten minutes before they return, so I carefully pick at the lock, counting down in my mind as the noise from the rusty lock fills the cavernous space.
It takes three checks before the lock reluctantly releases its grip and, as the door clicks open, I swear every nerve I possess is on high alert.
It won’t be long before the next check and I pray they don’t test the door and discover I’ve gone.
Once again, I wait for the soldier to walk away before I inch the door open, praying it doesn’t make any sound, alerting them to my escape.
The door opens wide enough for me to squeeze through, and I’m grateful for the eerie darkness as I blend into the shadows. Once again, I am in the huge open space of the warehouse and keeping to the walls, I move swiftly toward the darkest corner as I close the door behind me. I remove my heels and my feet move along the rough cold stone of the disused warehouse, catching on sharp stones and mixing with the dirt.
It’s funny how once you’ve lived in the shadows, they become a part of you and rather than be afraid, it’s like coming home. My memory is sharp, and I use it well to guide me along a space that entertains the unknown. My wits are sharpened and my resolve strong as I relax and begin to enjoy the opportunity I feel I’ve been waiting for all my life.
The cold steel of my gun rests heavy against my back and it amuses me how Carlos underestimated me. He never thought for one second I had concealed weapons when he brought me here, showing I am dealing with an amateur.
I watch one of the guards heading toward my prison with a flashlight and I shrink into the shadows, blending against the walls while hoping he’s a little careless with his duty.
As before, he merely passes by the door, checking it’s closed, and then heads back the way he came.
My heart thumping is the only sound I make as I move swiftly to the opposite end of the room and consider my escape. I’m guessing the soldiers are stationed by the entrance to alert them to their returning master. I move in the opposite direction from where we came in, hoping there’s a rear entrance that’s unlocked. Places like this hide a multitude of possibilities because they provide shelter for people like me when it’s cold outside. Broken windows and busted locks are the invitation inside for the desperate. It’s ironic that this time I’m desperate to get out, and it affords me the same opportunity.
As I thought, there is an opening, this time not one that man created and I see a part of the building has been destroyed, which enables me to crawl through a hole just big enough to fit my body.
The darkness greets me like an old friend as I take deep breaths of fresh air and I waste no time in creating distance between myself and the disused warehouse because I’m aware I don’t have long before that bastard returns.
As I weave through the shadows, it’s with the knowledge he could return at any moment and as soon as he discovers my escape, the area will be flooded with soldiers. I need every second of my head start and as I move, I calculate the best place possible to hide.
